


Bucky Yarns

by lokis_misunderstood_tears



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Birthday Party, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Fluff, Knitting, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:57:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3110342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokis_misunderstood_tears/pseuds/lokis_misunderstood_tears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Steve and Sam find Bucky they find a way to help him recover.  Featuring mentions of Canada, quick sad moments, and an abundance of yarn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bucky Yarns

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively titled:   
> You're Knit a Monster to Me  
> Yarn My Best Friend   
> It's Needles to Say I Love You  
> Steve Row-gers, Sam Wil-stitches, & Bucky Yarns  
> The Knitter Soldier 
> 
> I recently learned how to knit which prompted a headcanon that I posted on my tumblr (bistevenrogers, by the way) which prompted this fanfic. Many thanks to my sister (her url is mutantmiracle) for editing this and helping me rewrite some parts.

On a long drive, where the states blended together on one endless road, Steve sat quietly watching the lights blur as he drove. Steve turned to Sam to ask if they were in South or North Dakota when he saw that Sam was holding a ball of bright red yarn and a pair of white plastic needles. Sam noticed the Captain’s eyes on him and instructed him warmly, “Eyes on the road, soldier, not on my ball.”  
Steve chuckled and, following orders, turned his eyes to the dark road that had to belong to one of the Dakotas. Probably. He didn’t say anything when Sam began knitting a scarf with rhythmic motions. The sound of plastic meeting plastic filled the car; a sound that should have bugged Steve. His frustration had been constant since the day Buck’s mask fell away. The first time since the fall. Hell, the nagging frustration had started the moment he fell. They were continually just behind Bucky, always a day late. He had never been someone to run Steve remembered, and yet here they were. He supposed Bucky technically did run more than he did, but he kept his ground most times and threw punches until it was over. If Steve still had his faith he would pray for Bucky to finally stop. To face him until it ended. Until Bucky came home. Even if it came to death; any end that wasn’t a life without Bucky, Steve would take.  
But that clicking, that clicking that could have, should have, sounded like the ticking before a bomb or the clinking dog tags against the cold metal of a sniper gun. And yet it wasn’t. Instead, It was strangely soothing. Like the sound of the clock handed down by Bucky’s grandfather that was three minutes fast, or the absent-minded tapping of Bucky’s best (and most blister-inducing, though Bucky never complained) shoes on the cold hardwood floor when he waited for a date. Steve’s mind calmed for the first time since the ice.  
~  
After a few more hours, and a single sign that indicated they were, in fact, in the Northern of the Dakotas, Sam insisted they stop to sleep in an actual bed. Steve sat on the fluffy mattress and looked out the window, comforted by Sam’s sleepless rustling. Eventually Sam yawned and faced Steve.   
“Is it the bed?” Sam questioned and tossed his pillow on the floor. Steve shook his head and moved his gaze to his hands. Sam swept his legs around to sit up across from Steve. “Are you worrying? We’ll find him, Steve, we just-”  
Steve blurted out, “Will you teach me how to knit?” Steve blushed slightly, “Please?”  
Sam grinned his wide grin that made the motel room warm, like memories of Brooklyn springs in the Nazi Germany winter. He hopped over thebed and dove into his duffel bag to retrieve his materials, beginningto unravel the scarf.  
“Woah! Stop!” Steve protested, putting his hand up to stop Sam. “Why the hell are you doing that?”  
Sam laughed, “It’s fine, Cap. I’ve remade this scarf half a dozen times.” Steve retracted his hand. Sam continued to unravel the scarf until it was a bundle. “You know how to make a slipknot, right?”  
Steve nodded and accepted the string. Once the knot was made Sam started to cast it on one of the needles. Steve watched and listened intensely as Sam instructed, “Alright so, hold the needle with the stitches in your left hand, and hold the needle without stitches in your right hand. I think you can understand that. Insert the needle without stitches under the front of the first loop, and push it through so the right needle sits behind the left needle. Simple. Keep the yarn in the back of your needles or you’ll get confused and start yelling at the tangled piece-of-shit. Grab the yarn attached to the ball and wrap it from the back to in between the two needles. Poke the right needle through the left hole to the front of the left needle aaaand slowly pull off the old stitch onto your right needle. And repeat until all the stitches are on your right needle.” Sam stopped to inspect. “Now you just switch the needles and do it again. It looks easy but it’s also easy to fuck up.”  
Sam offered the needles, “Wanna try?”  
Steve nodded his head with the slightest touch of hesitation, taking the needles, and began to mock the motions. “When did you learn to knit, Sammy?”  
Sam smiled fondly and leaned back. “Riley taught me back when we were serving. His wife taught him before he left because she said that he might need to know. You can’t carry around much so he just had one pair of needles and one ball of yarn, so you had to unravel whatever you made to make something else. But I did find some chopsticks in the kitchen one night and used that and we each had one end of the yarn and tried to make a scarf that met in the middle. We would take turns knitting during the quiet days and nights, challenging each other on who could cast and knit the fastest. We would try to make up new patterns when we got bored. It probably looked strange with two grown men huddled over a ball of yarn and laughing. But...it was the only thing that was home over there.” Sam nodded to Steve’s hands that stopped when he started listening and he finished, with a sadder smile, “Those needles are actually Riley’s.”   
Sam clapped Steve on the shoulder and wished him luck before he settled back into bed.   
Steve bit his lip when the needle slipped and harder when it happened again. Sam woke up when Steve growled. Sam turned and looked at Steve’s deflated face. He held up a needle with double the stitches it originally had and a shape similar to underwear rather than a simple scarf. Sam bursted out laughing and went over to help Steve.  
~  
Steve worked on one lopsided scarf that night and finished it in the car the next day as Sam drove them up to Canada. But they didn’t have much time to practice after North Dakota. They followed a lead from a loyal former S.H.E.I.L.D. agent that lived in Manitoba. She had called Steve when there was a report of a man breaking into a camping supply warehouse. It was barely anything to go on except the security footage featured a metal arm hanging by the man’s side. Bucky’s carelessness frightened Steve. He didn’t bother to hide from the security cameras or cover his metal arm and the map he grabbed was clearly shown. A guide to the lesser known trails and camping grounds. Steve wondered if he was giving up.  
They drove as far as they could to the most secluded trail then went on foot to search the camping grounds. Sam kept pretending that he stopped because he thought he saw Bucky, but Steve knew he was looking for birds. Every time a majestic bird would pass over them Sam would smile and halt for a second before catching up to Steve.   
It was by chance when Sam spotted Bucky. Steve called to him tentatively and Bucky looked up, defeated. He clung to his jacket with his right arm and went to them. When he reached Steve, he fell to his knees and bowed his head. Steve heard him whisper apologizes. Steve crouched to Bucky’s eye level and examined his wind whipped face and tangled hair, his motionless left arm, and the tears that streaked his cheeks.   
“Bucky, do you want to come home?” Steve had asked sincerely. Bucky froze for a minute and nodded leaning into Steve. Steve noticed ice in between the metal planes. Steve shrugged off his own hefty jacket and slung it over Bucky’s shoulders. Together they stood up and traced back their steps to the car.  
Bucky huddled in the back seat with the scarf Steve made wrapped tightly around his neck and lower face, a resemblance to his discarded Winter Soldier mask that made Steve uneasy. They drove back to D.C. without a word from Buckyin the back seat, only occasionally fiddling with the scarf.  
And so the recovery began.   
~  
One night Steve walked into the kitchen and to find Bucky picking at a paper napkin. Next to his hands was a pile of already-shredded napkins on Sam’s counter. Bucky moved to clean up the pieces upon Steve’s arrival when Cap had an idea. His sudden departure prompted Bucky to abandon the clean up and follow Steve. In Steve’s practically permanent room he hunted through his dusty dufflebag. Bucky tensed up when Steve turned around sharply with his hands behind his back, but relaxed at Steve’s honest smile. Steve sat and called Bucky toward him.   
He slowly brought the needles and the red scarf from the night they found Bucky from behind him. Bucky’s hand reached out slowly, touched the red stitches, breathed in deeply. When Steve started to unravel it Bucky looked at him with wide eyes and a hint of a possessive snarl. Steve calmed him with a gentle touch, like they had worked up to.   
“I’m going to teach you how to knit. Like Sam taught me. It’s really relaxing, Buck. You remember that clock we had in our old apartment? I think of that. You can think about whatever you want, though, or nothing at all.” Steve moved his hand carefully in circles on Bucky’s back as he pulled the scarf loose with the other one. Bucky watched the scarf turn to a pile like Steve had with Sam. “Sam would probably be a better teacher than me but I’ll try.”  
Bucky nodded along as Steve taught him what Sam did. He silently took over after Steve and soon Steve fell asleep to the repetitive clicking.   
Steve woke up next to Bucky with a scarf wrapped around his neck. Bucky laid on his stomach and he subtly snored. Steve inspected the even stitches and a twinge of jealousy shot through him. He quietly made his way off the bed and into the kitchen. Sam was throwing away the pile of paper napkins when Steve padded in. Steve grinned at the unassuming Sam and rushed towards him, forcing Sam into a strong bear hug.   
Sam returned the hug after a shocked second. As an answer to Sam’s delighted, but confused face Steve declared, “Bucky is knitting.”  
~  
Steve and Bucky head out to the store that morning to get more yarn and needles, the first time Bucky had been shopping since he got back. The cashier at the craft store blushed at the sight of Captain America and a master assassin buying bundles of yarn, ranging from fluffy to ombre to simple black, and a hot pink needle set. Sam set up a chair in the living room for him with all the supplies in one of his wine racks beside it.   
Steve convinced Bucky that for his birthday he should let Sam and Steve host a dinner party with a limited guest list. Bucky relented only after a series of kisses from Steve and promises of plentiful and strong vodka.   
They had it at the house that, though once was Sam’s, had become the three of theirs over the past year. The usual people are invited, Natasha and Clint. Pepper, Tony and the other Avengers all received invitations but couldn’t come. That was fine with Sam especially, he couldn’t handle the threat of destruction and super villains that group always brought with them.   
Sam was in charge of cooking, as Steve had wanted to boil the hot dogs instead of grill them and was subsequently banned from the kitchen besides clean up. Natasha swore she could find the best suited vodka and would bring it on the condition they wouldn’t ask where she obtained it.  
“Happy Birthday, fellow Commie.” Nat teased holding out a handle of vodka with a bow on the cork and a perfectly wrapped gift. Bucky accepted them and kissed her on the cheek just to see Clint turn pink.  
“How old are you now, Buck?” Clint shoved a crumbled mess of wrapping paper and approximately eight bows into Bucky’s arms. “Old enough for senior citizen deals like Cap, yet?”  
Bucky chuckled and closed the door behind them. “Actually, I’ve just been using my charm for discounts. I’ve been getting half-off dinners before 5 o’clock for years now.”  
Clint found his way to the backyard where Sam was grilling. Natasha found her own way to Bucky’s knitting projects and inspected the craftsmanship. She commented, “You knit like you fight, James. Rough and confident.” She threw him a smirk.  
Bucky thanked her as he repositioned the gifts, “That’s a high compliment, Nat.”  
Steve joined them carrying three American flag party hats. He adjusted the one already on his head. “Hey, Nat, Birthday Boy, take a hat.”  
Nat hesitated before swallowing her pride and reached for one. Bucky checked to see if Steve was serious before putting on his own. Steve glew with gratification. “Where’d Clint go?”  
Natasha pointed outside and tugged the string around her chin in concealed discomfort. They joined the group outside where Steve was trying to sneak the hat onto Clint’s head, which Nat took over instantly. The backyard was decorated by Steve. Lights hung above the patio table. On the fence across from the table is a large painting of Bucky registering for his citizenship with a hand-painted banner below it detailed with fireworks proclaiming, ‘HAPPY 98th/29th BIRTHDAY BUCKY’. The patio table is adorned with miniature American flags and knitted coasters. Steve had had a serious conversation with Bucky before the party, who had requested the theme to be American. He was worried that it might be a trigger, but Bucky reassured him that it made him feel comfortable. Ever since he was accepted back as a citizen he wanted to be as proud as he had been before, at least in the symbol of America. Like how proud he was of Captain America.  
With his hat finally unevenly settled, Clint began to try to give Sam advice on the grilling.  
“Barton, I swear to God if you don’t stop trying to butt in I will fly to New York and pour my secret sauce all over your precious coffee maker.” Sam warned.  
Bucky opened the handle Natasha brought and poured five glasses. Sam announced setting the patties on a plate, “I can smell that vodka from here and it’s already sending me death threats.”  
Clint grimaced, getting a whiff of it, “Do you guys have any beers?” Sam nodded. “Sam, you want one?”  
“Hell yeah.”  
Steve sniffed his glass and called to Clint, “Get me a beer too, please.”  
Bucky and Natasha shared a smug smirk before adding the contents of the boys’ glasses into their own, splitting it equally. Clint came back just as Bucky and Nat clinked glasses and chugged it easily. They watched in horror as Nat finished her drink first, unfazed. Bucky finished a second behind her and twisted his face from the burn.   
“Holy shit.” Steve went over to Bucky and kissed him. He touched his mouth, “I think my lips are melting off.”  
Nat perked up with a devious thought and ran over to Sam and Clint and attempted to kiss them. They ran around the backyard, dodging the redhead.  
After Natasha successfully pecked both of them on the cheek before they were allowed to eat. Bucky doused his mac n’ cheese with ketchup to everyone’s distaste and went through three cheeseburgers. Steve beat him with four while Sam, Clint, and Nat only managed two each.   
The conversation picked up when everyone was full. Sam was at the end of explaining a joke he just told when Steve started to clear the table. He disappeared into the house and returned balancing an apple pie and whipped cream. He set down the pie in front of Bucky gracefully.  
“I’m guessing this party is America themed.” Clint deadpanned.  
“America and Bucky themed.” Steve corrected.   
Bucky eyed the apple pie as Steve lit the candles. “Sam, this pie looks amazing.”  
“How do you know I didn’t bake it?” Steve protested, lighting the final candle. Bucky craned his neck to kiss Steve’s cheek and didn’t answer.   
Clint started singing and everyone joined in besides Bucky. Steve and Sam ended up belting the last note together to everyone’s surprise. Bucky doubled over laughing when Sam’s voice gave out. He blew out his candles beaming. Slices of pie were handed out and everyone praised Sam.  
Clint chanted under his breath, “Presents, presents, presents.”  
Clint jumped out of his seat to gather them once Bucky nods. He dumped them in front of Bucky barely missing the pie plate. Bucky picked up Clint’s present first to his hinting. He fought with the excessive amount of tape until a beaten up beanie with burn marks popped from the cocoon of wrapping paper. Attached to it was a note that read in Clint’s handwriting, ‘do you know how to make beanies?’. Bucky rolled his eyes.  
Clint tossed him an unwrapped box. “I’m joking. This is your real gift.”  
Bucky opened it and two knitting needles shaped like arrows slid into his hand. Bucky laughed and thanked Clint. “I do know how to make beanies, Clint.”  
Bucky opened up Nat’s gift without any struggle. Inside compartments of a small box organizer are miscellaneous knitting tools that she defended are used in some way. She admitted it took her five hours of Youtube videos to understand what the tiny plastic circles are for and withheld the function when Bucky asked.  
From Sam he received a book of knitting patterns. Sam chimed in as he handed it to him, “I couldn’t really wrap your other gift so I’ll just say it. Bucky, I want to officially say that you and Steve are welcome to be my housemates indefinitely.” Bucky and Steve got up from their seats and shared a hug with Sam. “Just promise to pretend to try to keep it down at night.”  
Steve and Bucky smirked at each other. They sat back down after a minute and Steve pushed his gift over to Bucky. Bucky automatically blushed when he took out the red scarf that Bucky remade with Steve and a picture of Steve wearing it in a suggestive manner. He pocketed the picture in his jeans pocket.   
“Did Stark send anything over?” Nat inquired looking around for another present, “Gift-giving is always his favorite.”  
Bucky pursed his lips. “No, he has-.”  
The doorbell rang before Bucky finished. Sam goes to get it while Bucky shrugged his shoulders and played with the loops quizzically. Sam came back with a large gift wrapped box.   
“Stark?” Natasha guessed.   
Sam deposited it next to Bucky. Bucky held up a tag marked with Stark’s signature. He cut it open with the knife they used for the pie. He sighed and showed everyone the inside of the box, full of yarn. Sam leaved again rolling his eyes.  
“Where are you going, Sammy?” Steve called after him.  
Sam turned around and explained, “Stark dropped off ten of those boxes.”  
~  
Natasha started a drinking challenge with Bucky while Steve crammed all of the boxes of yarn from Stark into his and Bucky’s room. Even with Bucky’s serum-improved metabolism Nat still drank him under the table. She only slurred a little by the time the entire handle was gone while Bucky tapped out and had Steve finish his last two shots. Clint and Natasha called a taxi to take them back to their hotel when Sam finally expressed his fear that he was about to adopt two new freeloaders.  
Bucky’s metabolism burnt away the alcohol and he curled up in his chair. Steve leaned on the doorway of the kitchen while the dishwasher hummed. He admired a satisfied-looking Bucky knitting the beanie for Clint with his favorite hot pink needles. Bucky didn’t look up from his work as he said in his fighting mix of accents, old and new, “Sure could’a helped us in those Brooklyn winters, huh, Stevie?”  
Steve sat next to Bucky and held the ball of yarn for him without a word. He kissed Bucky’s forehead and closed his eyes at the sound of the needles and Bucky humming a Billie Holiday song.


End file.
